rm.thenightboat-第8部分

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　　〃I　seen　it　with　my　own　eyes。　I　seen　it　there！〃
　　〃No。〃　The　voice　was　still　soft；　but　a　manding　note　had　crept　into　it；　and　Thomas　Lacey　stood　looking　at　him　fearfully。
　　When　Thomas　found　his　voice　he　said；　〃It　be　under　the　water　a　long　time。　It　tore　up；　twisted；　but　thass　the　one。〃
　　The　reverend　stared　into　the　other　man's　eyes；　examining　them；　as　if　he　didn't　want　to　believe　what　Thomas　was　saying。　〃C'est　possible？〃　he　asked　quietly；　without　expecting　an　answer。　His　shoulders　sagged　forward　perceptibly；　the　sharp　blades　protruding。　〃Non；　non。〃　A　bird　screamed　outside；　in　the　tangle　of　a　protective　perch。　〃The　white　man？〃　the　reverend　asked。
　　〃Thass　right。〃
　　〃Leave　me　alone。　Please。　I　want　you　to　go　away　and　leave　me　alone。〃
　　Thomas　stood　where　he　was；　blinking；　worried　that　he　had　somehow　hurt　the　old　man。　He　wiped　his　hand　across　his　mouth。
　　〃Please；〃　the　reverend　said；　turning　away。
　　Thomas　backed　toward　the　door；　unbolted　it；　the　reverend　was　walking　down　the　aisle　between　the　pews；　moving　toward　a　doorway　on　the　far　side　of　the　podium。　He　disappeared　into　the　shadows　as　if　consumed　by　them。　Thomas　stood　there　a　moment；　then　he　opened　the　door；　squinting　from　the　harsh　glare。　He　left　the　church　quickly；　without　looking　back。
　　In　his　meager；　cramped　living　quarters　the　reverend　lit　a　candle　and　watched　the　flame　grow　to　a　tall　white　point。　He　reached　into　a　dresser　drawer　and　brought　out　a　locked　black　box；　setting　it　on　top　of　the　dresser。　He　took　a　small　key　from　a　pocket　and　unlocked　the　box。　He　looked　through　the　contents…a　white　rabbit's　foot；　a　vial　of　dark…colored　liquid；　grains　of　something　dark　in　a　paper　packet；　silver…painted　candles；　a　pair　of　glasses　with　tinted　lenses。　Finally　he　found　what　he　sought。　Oui。　There。
　　A　silver　case。
　　He　withdrew　it　and　opened　it；　inside　there　was　a　glass　eye…blue…on　a　coiled　silver　chain。　He　put　everything　away　again　but　the　eye；　and　this　he　fastened　carefully　about　his　neck　so　that　it　lay　across　his　chest　outside　his　shirt。
　　He　stepped　forward；　cupped　a　hand　about　the　flame；　and　blew　it　out。
　　Standing　in　the　thick　darkness；　he　asked　in　French；　very　softly；　as　if　speaking　to　someone　standing　just　beside　him；　〃What　do　you　see？　What　do　you　see？〃
　　　
　　　Four
　　
　　MOORE　WAS　CHOKING　for　air；　tumbling　head…over…heels　down　into　a　maelstrom　of　water。　Around　him　loomed　the　huge　gray…green　walls　of　the　sea；　he　was　captive　in　a　liquid　mansion；　falling　through　the　thousand　rooms；　falling　from　attic　to　cellar；　from　light　into　darkness。
　　You've　left　them　alone；　his　voice　shrieked　at　him。　You've　left　them　alone　and　they're　afraid　and　they　don't　know　what　to　do。。。
　　The　water　had　him；　closing　in；　pounding　pressure　squeezing　his　lungs。
　　They're　afraid。。。　they're　afraid。。。
　　He　braced　his　shoulders　against　the　sea；　straining；　fighting　it；　he　kicked　upward；　encumbered　by　something　yellow　and　bulky　on　his　body。　The　foul…weather　slicker。　He　kicked　again；　clawing　at　the　sea；　fighting　upward　against　it；　the　air　ebbing　from　his　body　with　each　second。　Don't　leave　them；　you　musn't；　no；　no；　no。　Reach　them；　please　oh　God　give　me　strength；　let　me；　let　me　please　this　time。。。
　　When　he　reached　the　surface　he　was　able　to　drag　in　only　a　small　bit　of　air　before　the　water　crashed　down　over　him；　driving　him　under　again。　He　fought　free；　staring　about　wildly　in　the　darkness。　There　was　a　scream　of　wind　and　water；　as　though　they　were　crazed　beasts　fighting　madly。　And　caught　between　them；　their　boat　creating　a　foaming　wave；　heeling　sharply　to　port；　the　water　pouring　in　sheets　across　the　deck。　He　could　see　them　reaching　out　for　him；　but　the　ocean　separated　them　and　the　wind　was　drawing　them　away。　He　called　out　for　them　but　the　roaring　shriek　of　the　storm　took　his　words　and　ripped　them　to　pieces；　spinning　them　out　into　space。　He　reached　out　his　hand　but　then　the　wave　came；　a　mountainous　jagged　thing　of　glistening　stone；　and　he　watched　it；　horrified　as　it　crashed　down　over　them；　splintering　through　wood；　driving　them　down　in　a　spray　that　exploded　with　the　shards　of　what　had　been　a　teak　deck。　He　could　only　see　them　an　instant　more；　frozen　in　the　stucco　of　foam　and　black　walls；　and　when　he　heard　his　name　cried　out　he　wanted　the　sea　to　sweep　down　his　throat　and　take　him　too；　but　that　was　when　the　spinning　section　of　transom　came　up　under　him；　forcing　him　to　dig　in　his　nails　and　cling　to　it。　It　lifted　him　from　height　to　height　and　on　and　on；　before　him　he　could　read　the　red　letters；　the　name　that　seared　his　brain　as　if　each　letter　were　a　point　of　flame：　Destiny's　Child。
　　Please。。。　don't　leave　them　alone。。。　they're　afraid。。。　please。。。　please。。。
　　〃。。。please；〃　he　said；　opening　his　eyes　and　feeling　the　pinprick　beads　of　cold　sweat　on　his　eyebrows。　A　soft　night　breeze　wafted　in　through　the　open　terrace　doors。　Palm　fronds　clattered　gently　just　outside；　and　he　could　see　their　shadows；　like　fingers；　in　the　pale　ivory　moonlight　that　painted　one　wall　of　his　bedroom。　Somewhere　far　away；　past　the　village；　a　dog　was　barking。　A　cockatoo　cried　in　the　jungle；　a　sad　and　mournful　sound　of　the　night。　Moore　put　his　face　into　his　hands；　waiting。　God；　he　breathed。　God。　Some　nights　they　were　worse　than　others；　some　nights　they　were　so　real　he　couldn't　shake　them；　and　they　laid　back　yet　another　layer　of　raw　flesh。　This　one　he'd　had　before；　though　they　were　all　variations　of　the　same　thing。　He　hadn't　been　taking　the　sleeping　pills　Dr。　Maxwell　had　given　him　for　some　time；　because　he　always　convinced　himself　he　could　sleep　soundly　without　them。　Now　he　wondered　if　there　were　enough　in　the　little　amber　bottle　to　get　him　through　the　rest　of　the　week。　He　lay　there　for　a　few　more　moments；　and　when　he　wiped　his　face　he　realized　his　eyes　were　moist。　When　he　started　to　get　out　of　bed　the　girl　beside　him　reached　out　and　caught　his　arm。　〃What　is　it？〃　she　asked；　ing　fully　awake。
　　〃It's　nothing；〃　he　told　her。　〃Go　back　to　sleep。〃
　　She　stared　at　him；　her　dark　eyes　darker　against　the　tint　of　her　flesh。　Her　hair　was　cut　short…like　they　were　wearing　it　in　Kingston　and　easy　to　manage；　she　had　said　when　he　plimented　her。　She　drew　her　knees　up；　lifted　her　purse　from　where　she'd　put　it　on　the　floor；　rummaged　for　a　cigarette；　found　one；　and　lit　it。　He　sat　beside　her　on　the　edge　of　the　bed；　and　she　traced　a　line　down　the　center　of　his　back　with　a　fingernail。　Her　name　was　Claire；　she　was　from　Old　Man's　Cay；　and　a　few　more　as　generous　as　this　one　and　she　could　pay　a　freighter　for　passage　to　Trinidad。　〃e　on；〃　she　said。　〃I'm　not　sleepy　anymore。〃
　　He　said　nothing；　listening　to　the　roll　of　the　ocean。
　　After　a　while　she　stabbed　her　cigarette　out　in　an　ashtray　beside　the　bed　and　stood　up；　her　lean；　firm　body　and　carnelian…tipped　breasts　catching　moonlight。　She　took　the　clothes　she'd　folded　over　a　chair　and　began　to　dress。　Moore　sat　where　he　was。　〃I'd　better　go；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　like　sleeping　in　a　strange　bed。〃
　　〃Neither　do　I；〃　he　said　quietly。
　　〃My　sister's　going　to　get　me　a　job　on　Trinidad；〃　she　said；　trying　to　lighten　his　mood　with　some　casual　conversation。　〃She's　a　dental　receptionist。〃　She　narrowed　her　eyes　at　his　back；　struck　by　his　defenseless；　unmoving　posture。　He　had　a　strong　body；　he　was　young　and　had　seemed　okay　when　they'd　met　at　the　Landfall　Tavern　that　afternoon；　but　now　he　was　so　detached　and　distant。　〃Wasn't　everything　as　you　wanted　it？〃　she　asked　him　finally。
　　〃Yes。〃　He　wiped　the　moisture　from　his　face；　stood　up。　〃It　was　fine。〃　He　got　a　striped　terry…cloth　robe　out　of　his　closet　and　put　it　on。　When　he　turned　back　he　saw　the　sea　shimmering；　patches　of　silver　and　black；　through　the　terrace　doors。　The　moon　hung　in　the　center　of　pendulous；　free…form　clouds。　From　its　position　in　the　sky　Moore　estimated　that　it　was　a　little　past　three。　His　gaze　moved；　as　if　drawn；　to　the　dark　line　that　lay　just　outside　the　sheen　of　the　harbor。　He　could　see　the　flashes　of　white　breaking　around　the　reef's　exposed　bommies；　then　he　saw　that　other　thing；　that　long　black　shape　lying　across　the　reef。　It　seemed　still　wedged　tight　in　the　same　position　it　had　been　in　when　he'd　looked　last。　He　was　afraid　the　surf　would　eventually　beat　the　hulk　free；　but　it　was　still　angled　toward　the　sky；　the　sea　foaming　in　silver　and　green　swirls　of　luminescence　along　its　hull。
　　The　hulk；　dappled　with　moonlight　and　cloud…shadow　like　an　eerie　camouflage；　sent　a　slow　crawl　up　his　spine。　How　the　hell　did　it　e　to　be　buried　beneath　the　sand？　he　wondered。　And；　more　importantly；　whose　boat　was　it？　British？　American？　German？　He　focused　his　eyes；　aware　of　the　rustling　of　the　girl's　skirt　across　the　room。　A　U…boat？　One　of　Hitler's　wolf…boats　prowling　the　deep　currents；　here　in　the　placid　Caribbean？　It　looked　like　a　dark　coffin　recently　exhumed。　He　shook　off　the　image　quickly；　but　he　couldn't　shake　a　strange　idea　he'd　had　all　day；　something　that　had　made　him　want　to　get　to　the　Landfall　Tavern；　down　a　few　forting　shots　of　rum；　and　seek　some　panionship　for　the　night　ahead。
　　It　was　almost　as　if　he'd　felt　pelled　to　try　to　dig　that　thing　out　underwater；　he　had　known　he　was　approaching　his　diving　limits　and　he　shouldn't　have　been　that　deep。　He　had　this　feeling　he'd　been　lured　there；　enticed　by　that　periscope　jutting　from　the　sand。　He　wasn't　responsible　for　finding　the　submarine；　rather；　it　had　somehow　found　him　and　pressed　him　into　service。
　　Claire　was　buttoning　her　blouse；　still　watching　him；　tired　but　half…hopeful　he　would　warm　to　her　again；　offer　her　a　bit　more　money。　He　was　an　attractive　man　and　he　had　made　love　to　her　in　a　gentle　but　demanding　way　that　had　nearly　succeeded　in　exciting　her。
　　Suddenly　he　turned　from　the　window。　〃I'll　make　you　something　to　eat　before　you　go；〃　he　told　her。
　　She　closed　the　last　button。　〃I　can't　eat　in　the　middle　of　the　night；〃　she　said；　laughing。
　　He　shut　the　terrace　doors　and　waited　until　they　were　out　in　the　corridor　before　he　switched　on　the　lights。　They　descended　a　stairway；　and　when　they　got　to　the　front　room　Moore　turned　on　a　pair　of　lamps；　which　surrounded　them　with　a　warm；　smoky　glow。　Claire　squinted　a　fraction　through　sleep…swollen　eyes　and　smoothed　her　skirt　down　over　her　hips　because　she　knew　it　was　wrinkled。　〃I　don't　look　too　good　in　the　light；〃　she　apologized。